Like any growing body, Horizon Holdings needed to put its overflowing energy to good use beyond mere expansion. It had to strengthen its core. With the company's newfound revenues, Danielle knew she had to funnel resources efficiently — without losses.
Thus, she conceptualized Fundamentos de la Línea — Fundamentals of the Line. A foundation of lines, a queue, a horizon.
When she first drafted the idea after New Year's, one thing was clear in her mind: redundancy. The recent restructure and automation across Horizon had revealed many roles that were no longer essential. Having experienced retrenchment herself last year, Danielle didn't want to throw people out of work — but she couldn't allow the company to absorb unnecessary losses.
She also noticed the heavy tax burden Horizon was paying. So, instead of letting that money disappear, she would build a foundation to channel those funds — all while improving Horizon's corporate image.
The name Fundamentos de la Línea was purposeful: a lifeline.
The Foundation's interim goals:
Scholarships for part-time workersMedical facilities in rural areasSubsidies for local farmers near La Rioja
Every high season, Horizon hired a large number of part-time workers — mostly struggling college and high school students. The foundation's first goal at its inception was to provide scholarships. These scholarships guaranteed that part-timers would receive the best education possible while transitioning into full-time employment. This strategy reduced Horizon's reliance on contractual workers and created a strong, positive public image.
Horizon Holdings Conference Room – Morning Briefing
Nadia, Caden, and Carmen sat around the glass table, waiting for the call to start. Suddenly, Danielle appeared on the monitor, wearing a hoodie pulled low over her head and thick eyeglasses masking her eyes.
Carmen's eyes widened in surprise before a soft, amused laugh slipped out.
"Is that her?" she asked, nodding toward the screen and glancing at Nadia just loud enough for both to hear.
Nadia looked up, took in the image, and then burst into laughter herself. "Yes, that's Danielle. Hoodie and all. She looks exactly the same as when I met her months ago."
Caden simply smiled, sensing the unspoken tension — this was the group Danielle was most comfortable with.
Danielle, still focused on her presentation, finally glanced up and offered a faint smile. "Hello. It's nice to finally meet you, Carmen," she said, her voice calm but guarded, especially toward Carmen. Carmen returned the gesture with a knowing nod.
"Likewise, Danielle." Danielle's smile deepened slightly, letting her guard slip just a little.
On-screen, her hoodie shadowed most of her face, eyeglasses firmly in place — still the same woman Nadia met months ago, but something about her presence now felt sharper, honed.
Behind her, the slide deck titled "Fundamentos de la Línea" glowed faintly. The first image: a line stretching into the horizon, students, farmers, and medical kits subtly embedded within the design.
"The idea is simple," Dan began. "We're redirecting overflow — money, resources, people. The redundant roles from automation and restructuring — I don't want to throw them out. But they can't stay in positions that bleed funds. The foundation absorbs them."
She clicked forward. Charts appeared. Scholarship pipelines, rural medical outposts, and farmer subsidy programs. Her voice remained even, though her pacing suggested urgency she couldn't quite mask.
Carmen leaned back, arms crossed, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. She hadn't expected the woman behind the system reports to be so young, or so composed. "She's dangerous," she murmured to Nadia, half a joke, half a compliment.
Nadia grinned, eyes on the screen. "Dangerous in the best way."
But Caden sat quieter than the others. His gaze lingered not on the slides, but on Danielle. She was precise, prepared — but exposed. Taking this much initiative without traditional backing could backfire. This is vulnerability, he thought. Not just hers. Horizon's. Too much change, too fast — it always came with risks.
Then she advanced the deck again. That's when he saw it — not weakness, but clarity.
Danielle was outlining gaps, and behind those gaps were deeper truths. Logistics systems spread too thin. Tax inefficiencies. Community backlash brewing from mass hirings and seasonal layoffs. She wasn't just proposing a PR patch. She was sealing leaks before they turned into floods.
And then—
"Hey."
That voice wasn't from the call's current members.
The screen blinked, and Axel joined the meeting.
Danielle didn't flinch, but her silence spoke volumes. What the hell are you doing here, she thought behind those steady eyes. She hadn't seen him since last year. Not in person. Not even on camera. And now here he was, like a thundercloud casually rolling into a sunny day.
Caden, startled, glanced between the two. Axel nodded at the group, ever unreadable. But when the next slide came up — detailing how scholarship recipients would cycle into Horizon's ecosystem — he spoke.
"This... this is good," he said, almost begrudgingly. "Companies on the rise without social roots fall fast. Scandals, bad press, even regulatory heat. This gives us weight. And time."
Danielle raised a brow. Approval? From Axel? Maybe the world was ending.
Caden nodded slowly, his earlier concern shifting. With the foundation, the Familia wouldn't just protect its image — it would gain new ground. The medical facilities? A perfect front for supply routes. The farmer subsidies? A long play to secure the vineyards, bottling, and expansion of Horizon's consumables to wider markets.
For the first time in the meeting, the table was silent. Not out of uncertainty, but realization.
They weren't just building a foundation. They were building infrastructure for control — corporate and otherwise.
Axel had barely settled into the meeting when the slide advanced again.
"To sustain the foundation's efforts," Danielle said, her tone still even, controlled, almost clinical, "we'll need a formal arm within Horizon. Not a vanity CSR wing — an operational entity. With quarterly accountability and jurisdiction over seasonal hiring, logistics rerouting, and subsidy flow."
She didn't look at him, not directly. But the timing wasn't lost on anyone.
Carmen tilted her head, eyes glinting.
Axel leaned forward. "That's a lot of internal restructuring. We're already lean in ops—"
Danielle didn't flinch. She adjusted her glasses.
"Then let's not pretend the current structure is sustainable. If you want to grow clean, we have to prune. Not just cut costs."
Silence.
Even the screen felt colder for a moment.
Nadia blinked, biting the inside of her cheek.
Caden, without lifting his head, half-smiled. There it is. She didn't come to be validated.
Dan's voice softened, but it didn't waver. "I'm not asking for permission. This is the proposed structure. You're here to align, not to approve."
Axel exhaled, slow. Measured. But not angry — curious. And maybe, somewhere under that, impressed.
Carmen burst out laughing. A low, throaty chuckle as she leaned back in her seat and tapped the side of her tablet. "Oh, she's that kind of woman." She turned to Nadia with delight. "You didn't tell me she was this much fun."
Nadia grinned. "I warned you."
Carmen gave a mock-salute. "Let me say—if this is what you're bringing to the table, you can wear hoodies to every meeting."
Dan almost showed a smiled for real.
Caden leaned back, one hand to his chin, watching Axel closely. He didn't need to say it — this wasn't just another briefing. This was a handover in disguise.
Axel finally spoke again, quieter this time. "Fine. Let's see it through."
But the room — physical and digital — had already shifted. Danielle wasn't just proposing a foundation. She had become one. Unmoving. Measured. Unbending where it counted.
And everyone knew it now.
The door had barely closed behind Danielle's virtual exit when Carmen leaned back in her chair with a satisfied hum, eyes still fixed on the blank screen where Dan's presentation had just ended.
CARMEN: "Ay, mijo," she said, shifting her gaze to Axel, "you really let that girl run the empire while hiding in a hoodie and blue light glasses? That's not a CEO. That's a myth."
Nadia bit back a snort but failed, turning to Axel with a wicked grin.
NADIA: "I thought she was a freelancer the first time I saw her. And now? She's funding rural clinics, building social capital, trimming your exec fat, and still hasn't unmuted herself long enough to give you more than three words."
Axel, hands in his lap, was trying to maintain composure. He didn't expect to be the one under review post-meeting, but here he was — flanked by fire.
AXEL: "She's efficient. Focused. It's not about appearances."
CARMEN: "Good. Because if it was, you'd be the intern."
Nadia let out a "Pffft!" so sharp it echoed across the glass table.
NADIA: "Tell me again why you've been playing CEO all this time when you had a full hurricane running operations from Antipolo in a hoodie."
Axel rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, "She doesn't like meetings."
CARMEN: "She doesn't like you."
Even Caden, sitting quietly near the window, smiled into his tablet. He wasn't about to get in the middle of it — but he was definitely saving this moment.
NADIA: "Better keep up, cousin. Because your hoodie-wearing myth just pulled three verticals into strategic alignment in under twenty minutes. She's building a foundation, literally and figuratively. And we're all just guests in her org chart."
Carmen reached for her coffee, lifting it in a mock toast toward Axel.
CARMEN: "To Fundamentals of Line. And to our fearless hoodie. May she never turn her camera on just to spare your ego."
The boardroom had finally emptied, the scent of fresh coffee replaced by the slow burn of realization. Carmen had left with a gleeful "I'm not picky, but I am impressed," while Nadia patted Axel's shoulder with a grin that said bless your heart.
Dan had logged off fifteen minutes ago, hoodie still up, voice flat and decisive to the end. She hadn't said goodbye, just "Meeting adjourned."
Caden and Axel walked side by side down the hallway, silence heavy between them—until Caden chuckled low.
Axel glanced sideways, frowning. "What are you smiling about?"
Caden didn't even look at him. Just tucked his hands in his pockets and said with a quiet kind of awe,
"The little sister is bad."
--
A few days later, Axel stood in the elegant sitting room of the Real de Lara estate, facing both his parents and Nadia's. The weight of their gazes made him tighten his grip on the tablet.
"She calls it Fundamentos de la Línea," Axel said, tapping the screen. "A foundation to manage redundancy, provide scholarships, establish medical facilities in rural areas, and subsidize local farmers near La Rioja—all under Horizon's banner."
The room was quiet. Everyone was absorbing the implications.
"It's smart," Mirella finally said, fingers tracing the rim of her glass. "Few realize how much influence image and social programs can bring."
Calisto leaned forward. "How does this benefit the familia?"
Axel met his gaze, steady. "Outwardly, it's Horizon's initiative. But it secures supply lines—agriculture, medical goods, even recruitment channels through scholarships. It's a shield and a tool. And the tax benefits are substantial."
Alonzo's voice was low but firm. "When we built Horizon, we never considered a foundation. Back then, it was survival, not legacy."
Laura nodded, a faint smile tugging her lips. "Now, we are a force. Danielle's shaping that future."
She sounds almost fond of her, Axel thought, surprised by the warmth.
Then Calisto's voice cut through. "Have you let her in?"
Axel blinked. "What do you mean?"
"This foundation… it's tailored for us. Every weak spot patched, every connection mapped. It's like she's one of us."
A heavy silence followed.
Axel exhaled, keeping calm. "No. She's not part of the familia. She only knows Horizon's needs. The foundation is for Horizon alone."
His father's eyes lingered on him longer.
Laura's smile deepened.
She doesn't know who we really are yet, Axel thought. But she moves like she does.
Mirella murmured, "She's already inside, whether we admit it or not."
Axel couldn't deny the truth.
Axel shifted, then added, "On another note — we've started weeding out spies within Horizon. The ties between Nate and the Santiagos have been confirmed, and we're tightening security around every familia member."
He paused to let the gravity sink in. "Also, the house for Danielle is already being prepared. Discreet, secure. She'll have what she needs."
Calisto nodded slowly. "Good. We can't afford loose ends."
Laura leaned forward. "You're doing well, Axel. Keep her close, but keep your guard up."
Axel's jaw tightened. "Always."
Alonzo and Calisto stood side by side, more like brothers than old allies. The weight of years and shared history settled between them, comfortable yet heavy.
Calisto broke the silence first. "The gem your son found isn't just precious." He glanced toward the closed doors where the meeting had just ended. "I heard from Nadia she's feisty as well."
Alonzo let out a dry chuckle. "Feisty is putting it mildly."
Calisto smiled knowingly. "Nadia's always wanting a friend of hers. Looks like she might have found one in Danielle."
Alonzo's eyes softened, a rare warmth breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. "I never thought when we built Horizon, we'd need a foundation like this. But maybe… maybe it's exactly what the familia needs."
He had never imagined it would come to this — a new kind of strength born not just from power or money, but from something more delicate, something like trust.
In the Philippines, Dan was leaning over her tablet, eyes scanning through the latest figures for Fundamentos de la Línea, when suddenly—achoo! She sneezed, a sharp, unexpected burst that made her pause.
Not now, she thought, blinking against the sudden irritation. The old superstition popped into her mind: when you sneeze, it means someone's talking about you.
She smirked. Well, if someone's gossiping about me right now, I hope they're saying good things.
Her phone buzzed on the table—an incoming message from Axel. Perfect timing, she mused, still chuckling quietly to herself.